


So Parties are rad right?

by Jessi_aka_pyro



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz, Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Boyfs only memtioned, Connor Murphy & Michael Mell - Freeform, I need them to be friends fight me, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, Underage Drinking, Victory Bow for only a quick moment, Weed, also, dumb title is dumb, friendship fic, i love connor with my entire heart, i've been working on this for months jfc i just needed to finish it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-20
Updated: 2018-01-20
Packaged: 2019-03-07 01:14:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13423608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jessi_aka_pyro/pseuds/Jessi_aka_pyro
Summary: Was it just a trend for Michael to get ditched at parties? He was starting to think so.





	So Parties are rad right?

Was it just a trend for Michael to get ditched at parties? He was starting to think so.

 

He sat alone in what could only be a laundry room, hiding from the crowded hallways and thumping bass that was shaking the house. He still couldn't tell you why he'd agreed to come, other than Jeremy's pleading eyes.

 

Not even ten minutes in, Jeremy had shouted, “Be right back!” and took off after Rich, leaving Michael standing awkwardly near the front door. He'd managed to stay there for about fifteen minutes before the house was getting more crowded and people were bumping into him harshly.

 

Some girl had asked to dance and pushed herself against him, breath erratic and coated in the stench of alcohol. Michael had shook his head, stepping back but all he got was more alcoholic breath and a hand trying to push up under his hoodie. Michael just _needed to get out of there._ He'd managed to push her off and take off in any direction that meant _away._

 

He ended up just opening the first door he could find and forcing himself inside. Thank god it was empty. Probably because it's a small room.

 

With a sigh, Michael jumped up to sit on top of the washer, leaning on an open palm, elbow digging into his thigh. There was no way Jeremy was convincing him to come next year. Fuck that. At least he wasn't hiding in the bathroom again. But was a laundry room much better?

 

Sighing, Michael burrowed into his hoodie, pushing on his head phones. Maybe he could just chill in here to music he actually likes, and find Jeremy later.

 

He selected a loud playlist and pulled up a Nintendo 64 emulator on his phone, loading up “Zelda ocarina of time”. If he was forced to be here, he might as well enjoy himself.

 

It wasn't ten minutes later however that the music was suddenly loud again as the door to his small haven was opening and a tall girl was backing into his safe space. She shut the door again, leaning against it with a sigh. Michael pulled his headphones down with a clear of his throat, causing the girl to jump, whipping around to face him.

 

Oh. That's not a girl. At least, not appearingly so. Michael didn't judge.

 

The boy's shocked eyes quickly narrowed to annoyance as he huffed, crossing his arms. He was in dark jeans, a black shirt, and a thick brown jacket. Long thick brown hair falling over his eyes and cascading around his shoulders to shield Michael's vision from any further expressions the boy might have expressed.

 

“Could you not?” Was all he said.

 

Michael tilted his head slightly, putting his phone into the pocket of his hoodie. “Not what? I'm just sitting here.”

 

“Not stare!? Why are you even in here. Shouldn't you be drinking or fucking someone or something?”

 

“I mean, by that assumption, I could be asking the same for you. Besides, I was here first.”

 

The boy huffed again, blowing hair from his face, and turned. “Whatever, I'll go find somewhere else.”

 

Michael stood up suddenly, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I mean you don't have to. I don't mind the company, so long as you're not going to try and beat me up or make out with me or something.”

 

“What?” He asked as he turned around. He had that expression like Michael had said something really weird. Michael was pretty used to it honestly.

 

“Okay so. Cards on the table. This is the second real party I've ever been too and both of those things almost happened to my best friend at the last one. I just assumed that was what happened at parties. But then again, the house also burnt down last time. I really hope that's not what usually happens.”

 

The boy shoved his own hands into his pockets and stared at Michael hard. “What even… you're weird.”

 

“Uhm. Yeah. Sorry about that.” Michael shuffled in place for a second, feeling the other boy watch him. Why was he even talking to him? It wasn't like Michael to just talk to random people. In fact, he usually made it a point to actively avoid talking to people that weren't Jeremy. Or weren't Jeremy's friends. But… Jeremy was with those friends. And not him. So why can't he talk to someone new? What was the harm in talking to this strange boy? And if he ended up actually killing him like those eyes were saying, then hey! Michael won't be at this lame party anymore so.

 

“I'm Michael. And I was super uncomfortable out there because my friend kind of ditched me to get drunk. So I came in here. Uhh hi.” He didn't offer a hand, but a sheepish smile instead, adjusting his glasses.

 

“...I'm… Conner. And uh. I just. Came in here.”

 

Michael nodded along, like that wasn't an odd response. “Too much?”

 

Connor stared a bit longer, but eventually nodded as well. “Yeah.”

 

Hopping back up on the washer, Michael grinned, nodding his head towards the dryer across, signaling Connor to jump up on that. “That's okay man. I get overwhelmed all the time. Sometimes you just gotta get away.”

 

With slow movements, Connor made his way to the dryer, getting up with ease. He never took his eyes off of Michael. The other boy would be lying if he said it didn't make him uncomfortable in the slightest.

 

“Uhm.” He pulled at the sleeves of his hoodie, making sure it covered his hands. Maybe this wasn't a good idea.

 

“What's that?” Connor asked instead, pointing to the pride patch on Michael's arm. Michael tensed.

 

“It's uhh. My gay pride patch. I'm gay.” Better to just be blunt right?

 

Connor was quiet for awhile. Long enough for Michael to fidget in place with the cord of his headphones and consider his escape routes. He loved that patch, but really it had brought him a lot of trouble. Maybe Connor was uncomfortable around gay people? Maybe this was his silent que for Michael to leave? He should. He should just go find Jeremy and tell him he's going home. He shouldn't have even come. Michael knew this would be a dumb night.

 

Just as he was about to jump off the washer and leave without another word however, Connor looked away with a slight red tint to his mostly covered face. “Me too.”

 

“Really?” Then Michael shook his head. He shouldn't have said that. He hated when people doubted his sexuality. “I-i mean, that's rad! I've like. I mean, I've known since junior high. I've never met anyone else who was also… yeah. I mean I have a friend that's bi. And I think my other friend might be lesbian but I'm not sure. But we're not even that close, they're more my friend's friend. But yeah, I just meant it was cool that you-”

 

“Do you always talk this much?”

 

Michael flushed. He smiled sheepishly at Connor and tugged on his headphones cord again. “Uhh only when I'm nervous. Or excited. Sorry.”

 

“N-no. It's… okay. I'm just… not used to it.”

 

Michael stared at the boy who was determined to not make eye contact all of a sudden. He could hear someone singing loudly just outside the door. Oh how this situation was so similar to last time and yet so different. Now there was someone to mope with him. Michael looked back to Connor, who was moving something around in his pockets.

 

“What do you mean?” Michael finally decided to ask.

 

Connor shrugged, flipping his hair out of his face again. “People don't talk to me.”

 

“I'm talking to you.”

 

“Yeah well, we've already established that you're weird.”

 

Michael laughed a bit nervously. “I can uh. Try not to? Be weird I mean.”

 

Connor stared instead of replying.

 

 _Nice going, Michael._ _This is exactly why Jeremy is your only friend._

 

Just when Michael thought Connor was either going to leave or stay silent forever, the other boy was fiddling with whatever was in his pocket again, glancing at Michael like he wanted to ask a question. “Hey uh. Sorry. That your friend ditched you or whatever.”

 

“Oh. Thanks.” Michael honestly wasn't expecting that. He tugged on the cord to his headphones again, searching for something else to say. Because _Jesus fucking Christ_ this was awkward as Hell. “So uh. Connor. Why are you… why are you here? A-at the party-”

 

“Do you smoke?”

 

Michael blinked owlishly at the intrusion. He grimaced. “Uhh not really. Cigarettes make me feel sick.”

 

Connor rolled his eyes. “Not cigarettes dumbass, I meant _weed._ Do you smoke weed.”

 

“Oh! Yeah! All the time!” He was immediately relieved. _Cigarettes are gross_.

 

Connor however eyed him suspiciously. “Really? You seem a little eager.”

 

Now Michael rolled his eyes. Yes he was eager, but it was more because they finally found something they could talk about rather than sitting in awkward silence. He pulled out a rasta colored lighter, ‘one love’ written across the side. “ _Yes_ , really. Do you have anything? Because honestly, getting high right now sounds like the best idea.”

 

A smirk crossed the boy's face and Michael was struck with how much an asshole this guy probably was. But not like in the _asshole_ , asshole way. More like. Just an asshole. A friendly asshole if you will.

 

_Michael should really stop thinking about assholes, no matter the personality._

 

Connor pulled out what looked like a small cigar, but Michael was more than aware it was likely filled with weed rather than tobacco. An image of Jeremy and him hiding out back of the 7/11, each with a menthol cigarette between their lips (menthols are supposed to be smoother on the lungs, _shut up_ ).

 

It had ended as one would suspect. Michael coughing hard enough to throw the Damn thing away and Jeremy nearly puking. Michael couldn't help the laugh that escaped his lips.

 

Connor’s eyes shot up immediately in a glare. “What the Fuck are you laughing about?”

 

Raising his hands in surrender, Michael shook his head. “Not you! Sorry! I was just thinking about my friend!”

 

“Really? Because if you were laughing at me…”

 

“I wasn't, promise! I was just remembering when my friend first tried cigarettes!”

 

Connor stared for a beat longer, but then shook his head, turning back to getting the blunt lit. Michael was pretty sure he was going to stay silent after that, but as Connor pulled it from his lips, letting out a slow stream of smoke, he passed the blunt to Michael with a quiet, “this the friend that ditched you?” attached.

 

 _No apology? Geeze._ Michael subtly rolled his eyes, taking the blunt between his lips. He took a long pull before passing it back to Connor. After a second of holding it in, he breathed out through his nose slowly, feeling the smoke metaphorically curl through his body. Michael smiled slightly despite the negative question. “Yeah. That's Jeremy. He's my best friend.” A bit of a juvenile description, but it was true.

 

Connor _hmpf_ ed, taking another hit from the blunt. “You're not mad at him?” He passed it back.

 

Michael repeated the motions on auto pilot, humming slightly. “No? I don't think so. Irritated maybe.”

 

“I'd be kicking his ass by now.”

 

Michael shrugged. “He knows I don't really like getting drunk. So he probably thought he was doing me a favor. By ditching me.” He passed it back with a frown, but at least he was feeling a little more loose now. A few more and he'd feel almost stable despite the heavy thumping vibrating the door.

 

Connor rolled his eyes, rolling the blunt between his black painted fingers. Michael glanced at his own chipped rainbow ones.

 

“He know you get overwhelmed too?”

 

Waiting for Connor to take his turn, Michael looked towards the door, wondering what Jeremy was doing right now. “Uh. Kind of? He knows a little bit. Just…”

 

“Not the severity,” Connor finished, passing the blunt across. Michael nodded in confirmation, taking a long hit.

 

Which was apparently a mistake, as now he was holding it out of danger as he fell forward, coughing harshly.

 

Connor laughed, plucking the blunt from Michael's fingers. He was pretty sure he heard the other boy mumble _‘dumbass’_ as well, but Michael was too busy _temporarily dying_ to react.

 

Once he'd gotten a hold of himself, Michael sat back up, wiping the moisture from his eye, glaring at Connor lightly.

 

The bastard had gone and smoked nearly the entire thing.

 

Connor shrugged with a smirk again, handing the last quarter over. “My weed, my rules.”

 

“I was _dying_ how is that even fair?”

 

Raising an eyebrow, Connor- _holy shit was that a smile or was Michael just that high already-_ replied, “do I look like I play fair?”

 

Rolling his eyes, Michael finished it off, offhandedly hoping Jake doesn't mind the newly added ashes to the carpeted floor.

 

“Hey!”

 

Michael grinned. “You never asked for it back.”

 

“Dick.”

 

“Prick.”

 

“Bitch.”

 

“Fuck face.”

 

“Fuck face?”

 

“You heard what I said.”

 

And then they were laughing. Giggles erupted from both boys until they were falling over themselves, gasping for air in their suddenly dry throats.

 

“What the- what the fuck- fuck even is a- a _Fuck face_!?”

 

That started up Michael's laughter again as he attempted a shrug, wiping tears from his eyes. “I- I don't know man! You Just- I was g-gonna say Bitch! B-but then you s said it!”

 

“You're fucking weird.”

 

“And you're not?” Was Michael's come back. “You come into _my laundry room_ and give me _weed_ , a complete _stranger_ , and call _me weird_!?”

 

Connor rolled his eyes, much more put together than Michael. “Shut the fuck up, nerd.”

 

They stayed like that for a while longer until both of their stomachs were growling way too much to ignore any longer. It was Connor who suggested venturing back out into the jungle that was drunk teenagers.

 

“Hey. I'm fucking hungry. Do you think there's any food left?”

 

Michael shrugged, but standing up regardless, though he did stumble slightly with a breathy laugh as his legs remembered how to work. “Probably? Jake's rich, dude.”

 

“Jake?”

 

“The guy who's having the party.”

 

Connor shrugged, getting up with much more grace, if maybe staring dazed for a half second. He gestured towards the door for Michael to follow. “I don't know whose party this was, man. I just heard free drugs. Apparently though everyone is into fake nowadays.”

 

Michael grimaced. He was more than aware of that fact. “Oh uhh yeah. It's pretty sucky to be honest.”

 

“Sucky? What are you-”

 

“Gay?” Michael cut off with a smirk.

 

Connor rolled his eyes. “I was gonna say 12, but I mean.” They shared another laugh as Connor took a subtle breath and opened the door. They both cringed at the pounding bass now unobstructed from them. Apparently more people had now shown up as well.

 

They locked eyes and knew the mission was clear. Get to the kitchen, retrieve food and water/soda, return promptly. Every man for himself past this point.

 

Connor shut the door, glaring at a guy coming to talk to him, and took off. Michael followed after, though slightly slower as he wasn't as well practiced in the art of pushing people aside carelessly. Being a dick had to have its perks, Michael supposed.

 

Connor must have slowed down at some point however, as they seemed to reach the kitchen at the same time. Connor already looked twice as tense as he did after taking an hour to chill out in the room they'd been hiding in.

 

Michael was mostly just breathless as well as done with all the _touching_.

 

“Hey uhh-" he started, but Connor cut him off with a raised a hand, signaling Michael to follow.

 

“Let's just hurry the fuck up.”

 

It only took Michael a few seconds to understand that Connor was even more uncomfortable than he was. He nodded in response, following the taller boy.

 

Filling their pockets with chips and soda and a couple waters, the duo turned to make their way back to the secret haven they'd found when Michael saw it.

 

Or well, _them_ would probably be more accurate. Jake and Christine.

 

He glanced to the left to see Jeremy staring, eyes wide and hands trembling. Connor casted Michael an odd glance before following his line of sight. Rolling his eyes, Connor _‘huffed’_ and shot Michael a glare before making his way from the kitchen. Michael shrugged apologetically before making his way over to his best friend.

 

Jeremy jumped at the initial thump of Michael's hand on his shoulder, but after seeing who it was, Jeremy immediately turned back to the apparently happy couple. Michael could feel him heaving in deep breaths.

 

“You okay?” Michael asked, but it was too quiet for Jeremy to hear. At least the intent was heard though, as Jeremy turned from them and mouthed to Michael to, _‘Get me out of here.’_ Michael didn't need to be told twice.

 

Grabbing a hold of a sweaty hand, Michael ignored the equally sweaty bodies pushing against him with a grind of his teeth, and made his way to the laundry room. He opened it quickly, pulling Jeremy in behind him and shutting the door with a click.

 

“Took you long enough. What was with Romeo and ju-" Connor cut himself off as his two colored eyes locked onto Jeremy. He looked back to Michael, shoulders tensing.

 

 _Ugh._ Michael heaved a sigh and cut Jeremy off as the boy opened his mouth to surly ask _who the fuck is this kid_.

 

“Uhh okay. So. Jeremy? This is Connor. And Connor, this is Jeremy. So um. I'm gonna-”

 

Connor rose an eyebrow at Michael, effectively cutting off Michael and making eyes at Jeremy. It was obvious he was implying if there was anything between them. Michael shook his head fervently, ignoring the heat on his face. Connor rolls his eyes and huffs, suddenly understanding way more than what Michael wanted him too, and shoved his way past them to the door. “Right. Got it. I'll get out of your hair.”

 

“Wait, no, Connor. I wasn't-”

 

“It's fine, Michael. I think it's time I leave this shit anyway.”

 

Michael bit at his bottom lip, looking from Jeremy to Connor. On one hand, Jeremy is his best friend. He needed to be there for him, but Connor seemed really cool, if a dick. And Michael had never met anyone who understood the need to get away, the realness of being overwhelmed by normal things. But ultimately, Michael knew he'd always choose Jeremy. So with a nod, Michael pulled out his phone, handing it to Connor. Connor lifted an eyebrow, most likely questioning Michael's sanity.

 

“Your number?” He offered with a nervous smile. “That way if we ever happen at another party, maybe we can hide together again. I mean, if you want. I had fun and you seem cool so…”

 

Rolling his eyes, Connor nodded, entering the digits. If Michael looked closely he could spot a small smile, but he wasn't going to be the one to point it out.

 

Connor didn't say anything as he handed the phone back, instead, tucking some of his hair behind his ear and giving Michael a two finger salute. He opened the door, taking a breath to prepare himself to brave the jungle of drunk high schoolers, but paused. A smirk played on his thin lips as he twisted around. Michael's nerves stood.

 

Casting a glance between the two, Connor looked at Jeremy once more.

 

“You know, it's pretty normal for best friends to Fuck now-a-days.”

 

He left as both Michael and Jeremy's faces grew red. Michael really hated Connor.

 

“What is he talking about?” Jeremy questioned. Almost immediately Michael shouted, _“Nothing,”_ before quickly changing the subject. Never before had he been this thankful for Jeremy's habit of being _painfully_ oblivious.

 

As Jeremy started to rant about _this_ and _that_ (I.e mostly Christine) Michael couldn't help but look at the new contract in his phone.

 

**That One Guy Who Gave You Drugs**

**832 655 6702**

 

Maybe being ditched at a party so your best friend/crush could get drunk only to find you later and cry about his ex girlfriend for an hour wasn't so bad.

 

...actually. Yeah it was. It was terrible. Michael was never going to a fucking party again.

 

But it was pretty nice to have a new friend. One he didn't meet through a weird drug and Jeremy. It was just normal drugs this time.

 

There was tugging on his sleeve, pulling Michael’s attention up to the distressed boy in front of him. _Right._

 

Connor, later. Jeremy, now.

 

“So tell me what happened?”

 

“Okay so. Rich offered me a drink, and Christine was…”

**Author's Note:**

> Ayyyyy it's me again. That one dude that can only fuckin write short fics and never finish a chapter story. I'm sorry, I just. Connor and Michael. Friends. I /NEED/ it/


End file.
